


You, You, You

by Sass_Master



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Honeymoon, Just Married, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8077747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sass_Master/pseuds/Sass_Master
Summary: If Castiel had known that giving Dean a ring could make him so happy, he would’ve done it ages ago.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A (slightly belated, in my timezone) post in honor of the most important holiday.
> 
> This is a direct sequel to [Meant to be Near Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6862255), so it will probably make more sense if you read that one first!

If Castiel had known that giving Dean a ring could make him so happy, he would’ve done it ages ago.

“Check it out, Sammy,” Dean brags when Sam wanders into the kitchen to see what Dean’s yelling about. Dean holds his hand next to his face, wiggling his fingers. “Cas finally made an honest man outta me.”

There’s something about Dean wearing a meaningful gift that Castiel gave him – _showing it off_ – that stirs up a spark of pride within Castiel, a pleasant warmth in his stomach.

“Aww,” Sam coos, mouth quirking up at the corners, “And you didn’t even ask me to walk you down the aisle?”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbles, giving Sam a playful shove, but he fails to fight back a smile; it’s bright and infectious, terribly beautiful in its carefree joy, and Castiel is so in love with him that his chest aches.

After Sam is kind enough to pick up some cake and champagne, they gather around the table for a more official celebration. Dean insists that he and Castiel feed each other their first bites of cake, and Castiel is happy to indulge him, captivated by the delight in Dean’s eyes as Castiel raises his fork to Dean’s mouth. It’s not long before Dean’s flushed and giddy from alcohol, pressing into Castiel’s space and kissing him, uncaring of the fact that Sam’s still with them.

“Oh my god,” Sam pretends to groan, “ _Get a room_.”

“Fuck off,” Dean fires back, barely separating their lips enough to get the words out. “We’re newlyweds.”

Sam excuses himself with a laugh and more heartfelt congratulations, the affection on Dean’s face growing warmer and softer now that he and Castiel have true solitude. Dean fists his hands in the collar of Castiel’s shirt and drags him in again, presses their mouths together slow and heated. Castiel savors the taste of him, his sweet mouth even sweeter from sugar and vanilla, the faint tang of liquor.

“Maybe, uh,” Dean says as they break away, breath hot again Castiel’s lips. “Maybe we should—you know… _retire to our marital bed_ ,” he suggests,  and Castiel watches in fascination as he draws his lower lip between his teeth. “It is our wedding night, and all,” Dean adds, low and intimate, melting into a grin that seems almost shy considering that this is far from the first time they’ve gone to bed together.

Castiel’s familiar with the tradition; perhaps this is one area where the conventional route suits them just fine, he thinks, taking Dean’s hand and eagerly ushering him into their bedroom.

“Can’t believe I’m gonna sleep with a married man,” Dean says cheekily when they shut the door behind them, looking rather pleased with himself as Castiel pushes him onto the mattress.

“Are you?” Castiel says vaguely, feigning disinterest to get a rise out of Dean – as if there’s any disguising the desire he feels.

“Yeah,” Dean says with a dreamy sigh, immediately wrapping all four limbs around Castiel when he joins him on the bed. “He’s gonna totally rock my world, too.”

Castiel certainly tries his best to deliver on that expectation, but he can’t take full credit for how indescribably good it feels to be with Dean this way. It’s beautiful and familiar and thrilling, just as it is every time, but tonight Dean clings just a little bit tighter, moans a little more breathlessly, gives himself over to it so completely that Castiel’s heart pounds a wild rhythm just looking at him, flushed pink and panting Castiel’s name. There’s something unbearably tender in his eyes, tears welling up and spilling onto his cheeks, Castiel wiping them away as Dean chants _I love you, I love you_ so faintly that Castiel’s not convinced he’s even aware he’s doing it.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Dean mutters afterward, the word shaped around a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, exhausted and sated and content. Castiel whole-heartedly agrees with the sentiment, holding Dean close, kissing his temple, eyes drifting shut, satisfied to the very core.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” Dean says, after a moment, nudging him. “We’re gonna go again,” he insists, “And I’m not gonna cry this time.”

Castiel reaches out to brush his fingers against the drying tear tracks on Dean’s lovely face, admiring the smattering of freckles, giving him a sly smile. “Of course not.”

“Don’t patronize me, asshole,” Dean replies with faux-grumpiness, the sound of his laughter infinitely appealing to Cas’s ears. “Can’t believe I married you,” he grouses, hauling himself up to straddle Castiel’s waist.

Castiel reaches up to cup Dean’s cheek in his palm, captivated by the way he presses his face into Castiel’s touch, by the magnificent picture Dean makes seated above him. “Don’t tell me you want a divorce already,” he teases.

“No fucking way,” Dean says, scowling even as he nuzzles further into Castiel’s hand. “Now shut up and consummate me again.”

Castiel chuckles at Dean’s phrasing. “That’s not—”

Dean cuts him off with a kiss.

In the morning, Castiel wakes up with Dean curled around him, murmuring _let’s go away for a while, just me and you_ , against his collar bone. They have the car packed and ready to go by noon.

Dean has no particular destination in mind that Castiel can discern; he simply seems content with Castiel’s company and a long stretch of road ahead of them. Castiel settles his hand on Dean’s thigh as he drives, gratified by the smile that earns him, perfectly pleased with this arrangement as well.

They zig-zag their way out to the east coast, and it’s a much more leisurely trip than Castiel’s grown accustomed to. They spend far more time exploring tourist destinations or seeking out hidden gems of American culture far off the beaten path – places they’d only ever discover in pursuit of a hostile abomination or restless spirit, never for their own enjoyment.

There’s a newfound sense of freedom in it, one that Castiel can see is having a wonderful effect on Dean, the normally tense line of his shoulders more relaxed, his smile easy.

At a rest stop in Ohio, Dean disappears for a few minutes while they’re waiting in line for food. He returns with a shopping bag, looking smug. “Look what I bought,” he announces, holding out a coffee mug with _World’s Sexiest Husband_ printed on the ceramic.

Castiel lifts an eyebrow, mindful of the mischief in Dean’s eyes, noting again, with much interest, Dean’s predilection for drawing attention to their ‘marital status.’ “Is that for me?” he asks slowly, “Or for yourself?”

“I couldn’t decide,” Dean admits with a grin, producing a second mug from the bag. “So I got two.”

Castiel laughs. “That’s very practical of you,” he says, smile wide, gazing fondly at Dean for so long that the girl working behind the McDonald’s counter has to clear her throat to get his attention.

They find themselves at a diner in New Jersey a couple of days later, one with retro décor and view of the boardwalk. “You boys here on vacation?” the waitress asks as she tops off their morning coffee.

“We’re on our _honeymoon,_ ” Dean clarifies, without missing a beat, and Castiel’s in awe of the unfettered joy shining on his face, the way he takes pleasure in affirming it out loud yet again, not even concerned about what other people might think of that information.

The waitress – Nancy, according to her nametag – gives them a wink and a genuine smile in response, and saunters away without another word. When she brings them the bill, she throws in two slices of pie, on the house.

Dean seems to be gravitating further north, and they find themselves booking the last available room in a converted beach house on Cape Cod. They stay for a week, spending a few lazy mornings eating breakfast in bed; in the evenings, they walk along the shoreline holding hands, salt water tickling their bare feet. In another life, Castiel thinks, they could have stayed here forever.

It’s a nice idea, but ultimately not one that Castiel clings to; any life that he shares with Dean is the one that he truly wants.

On the drive home, when they’re parked on the side of the interstate, waiting out a thunderstorm, Castiel notices – not for the first time – that Dean is thoughtfully touching the engraved silver on his finger, something awed and humbled in his gaze.

Even when Dean’s not going out of his way for the obvious joke – like referring to Castiel as _the old ball-and-chain_ on a phone call with Sam – Castiel is still keenly aware of just how much the band around Dean’s finger means to him. Castiel could swear to Dean a thousand times that he’ll always be by his side, but now Dean has the tangible proof on his finger, something he can look at and remind himself of their promise. It means the same thing to Castiel.

Dean realizes he’s been caught in his reverie, and when he glances up, Castiel swears his eyes are shining with emotion. “Can’t believe it,” he tells Castiel quietly, voice unexpectedly raw and shaky. Castiel can’t quite believe it either – for them to have met the way that they did, to have endured so much together and still end up _here_ , it’s nothing short of remarkable. “No more livin’ in sin, huh?” Dean says with a faint chuckle and a forced smirk, trying to clear the hoarseness in his throat away, blinking rapidly.

Castiel knows it’s meant to be a flippant remark, but he can’t help but correct that perception. He takes Dean’s hand in his own, brings it up to his mouth, kisses his knuckles. “This was never a sin, Dean,” he murmurs against Dean’s skin, holding Dean’s gaze steadily. “What I feel for you is the purest thing I know on this earth or in heaven. That you feel the same for me is beyond anything I could ever have hoped for.”

There’s a weighted silence that Castiel expects, knowing that such sincerity is sometimes difficult for Dean, that accepting how truly cherished he is doesn’t come easily. He’s pleased when Dean doesn’t protest or brush it off, just ducks his head in acknowledgment, a faint pink tinge coloring his cheeks, an almost shy smile on his face. “Guess you didn’t just marry me for my body after all,” he mutters with an almost imperceptible crackle of emotion that Castiel knows to listen for.

“That’s only one of your many charms,” Castiel replies, keeping his tone light. “I know you’d never believe it if I told you that you were perfect,” he says, voice gentle, more serious. “But you’re perfect for _me_.” Castiel squeezes Dean’s hand, notes the way that Dean’s eyes are shining. “We fit together.”

“Cas,” Dean whispers, swallowing visibly.

Castiel smiles softly, tries to pull this back from that too-earnest ledge that often has Dean retreating. “You’re _my better half_ ,” he says teasingly, borrowing some of Dean’s favored, cliché terminology.

Dean lets out an unexpected bark of laughter, loud and carefree. “Okay, no way is _that_ true,” he says, but his self-deprecation is playful, a smirk emerging on his face.

Castiel kisses Dean’s fingers again, eyes intently trained on Dean’s face. “I have a ring on my hand that says otherwise.”

Dean chuckles, a warm, bright sound that settles pleasantly in Castiel’s stomach. He eyes the silver on his own hand, glinting between their joined fingers. “Guess that makes you my better half too, then,” he mumbles eventually.

Castiel hums his agreement, taking Dean’s face between his hands and kissing him with passion, with _intent_ , decidedly through with talking for the moment.

The storm has long since passed by the time they get back on the road.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://sass-master-stina.tumblr.com). Thanks for reading!


End file.
